Stopwatch
by Akua
Summary: AU. The word 'Monday' meant many things—and now it was interchangeable with 'End of the world'... or, now it meant 'end of the world' to everyone out of mandatory education, too. Or in other words, the day Dirty Daryl Dixon brought a gun to school.
1. Chapter 1

**Stopwatch**

* * *

_Its the end of the world... figures it'd be a Monday._

* * *

Glenn knew that there were only a handful of laws that one had to uphold. Well, only a handful if someone was stingy, sly and just wanted to get by. He didn't know the exact words or anything—he had never gone to church, and the only references he knew were from television or comic books or slang itself from the other teenagers his age.

Rule one. Don't break the law and get caught—not that he would go about breaking the law anyway. But if he ever did feel the inclination to do so, it would be best to not get caught.

Rule number two... don't kill other people. Its just not done... Well, _technically_ it was. But that was besides the point.

And rule number three only applies to the other kids with strict parents... or just Asian parents—don't break the laws of the school. Don't get anything less then a 4.0 GPA. If you get an A minus, you're dead.

And rule number four—don't mess with Daryl Dixon. That was a unanimous rule of the school. For high school, at least. Daryl Dixon was one of those 'open secrets' that everyone knew. The rumor mills in the halls were terrible, and even someone like Glenn who had very few friends knew all there was to be known about Dixon. How the older Dixon brother never finished high school because he stole a car and ran it in to a mall fountain. He went to juvenile hall for a while. And afterward he had the chance to go back to high school, but he just never did.

But everyone knew Daryl Dixon was bad. Not only did he look old, he was normally dirty all the way to the finger nails and tended to smell. He glared at anyone that came near and never spoke to anyone. That, and despite the fact that he was two years in to high school, he was still around the Freshmen level of education. As in, he had classes with the Freshmen because he was so inbred and stupid that he couldn't advance. Or that was the rumors, at least.

At Macon High in Georgia, rumors mean everything. And most of them were true.

And, well... Glenn had always known that he lived with a particular brand of stupid. In fact, it had to be his fault that there was so much stupid in the halls. He was only a freshman, so there had to be some allowances. But nothing could cover for the fact that when he did stupid shit, it was really stupid.

The warning bell had rung moments ago, and all the students had scampered in to their classes. There were only five minutes between the warning bell and the start of official class time and Glenn didn't understand why the time was so short! He had been in the bathroom when the bell had rung, stuck behind a line.

Yes. A line in the boys bathroom. Who would believe that? Well, Glenn knew that two of the three stalls were condemned via explosive diarrhea that no one flushed and no one wanted to get near enough to flush. The last stall was filled with the grunts of a constipated football player (as the bag on the floor stated, at least). There were only three urinals. But who the hell wants the middle one? Not even Glenn would take that one._ Way_ too close.

So, when he finally finished his business and got the hell out of that shit-hole (literally) he was running late to grab his bag from his locker and get to class. He was on the main floor of school in the enclosed hallway. His math class (advanced Algebra... which he was sadly failing) was on the second floor on the other side of campus and he needed to run. He was rushing so much that his fingers bumbled clumsily on the dial three times before a boot connected to his back and kicked him to the side just as he got his locker open.

Glenn had always known that the kid that gets the bottom of the stacked lockers was always the one that gets screwed. It was the 'bitch locker' after all. It had been a few weeks in to the school year already, but he hadn't known who his locker buddy was until they (just now) kicked him in the backside.

Glenn blinked dumbly at the floor, his back going from numb to stinging and aching as he slowly looked up and up...

And saw dirty Daryl Dixon.

"Wha..." The word started to slip out before he clamped his mouth shut—that didn't stop Daryl from shifting the door of the locker over and looking down at him. And Daryl Dixon really did know how to look down at people. His nostrils flared and his nose wrinkled as if a particularly nasty odor had wafted near him. Those dark eyes gleamed black like little dark beetles. Glenn felt his heart stop for a moment, because under the layers of dirt and uncombed hair and scraggy facial hair was... someone that was capable of violence.

Their staring contest lasted but a moment before those eyes narrowed—"wha'tre ya lookin' at, _Chink_?" He sneered, and it was surely an ugly face. But Glenn didn't register that so much as the racial slur and the fact that Daryl Dixon was getting surly because Glenn was staring at him.

Glenn's eyes shot to his locker. "N-n-nothing!" He stuttered out as he carefully grabbed for his messenger bag and hauled it out of the locker. Carefully to not even so much as brush Daryl's jean covered legs and boots from where they were planted right in front of his locker. Daryl made a noise. A deep, viscous sound that seemed to come from the center of his chest much like the growl of an angry dog. But the dirty teen didn't move to strike, and Glenn was quick to keep his head down as he shut the door of his locker and scuttled back on his hands and knees.

Glenn hadn't realized his heart could pound so much and so loudly from fear alone. Glenn had played video games about bullying, and this was a frighteningly similar scene. His legs were shaking to the point where he didn't think he could stand. Of course, this was the time where the bully would do a swift kick to his ribs and then stomp on him for a bit before demanding money. Glenn froze, stuck between anticipation and horror and all he could seem to look at was his stupid locker as he threw his messenger back over his neck and slid an arm through it, carefully protecting his sides during the motion.

He absently registered a noise—something on the lower end of the registry—before the top locker slammed shut and Glenn's eyes jerked up to Dixon as the other pulled away.

The other was leaving—and Glenn was filled with relief at seemingly being left alone (the other could turn around and chuck something at him, the pessimistic side of himself informed him rather matter of factly). Here he was, crouched on his heels and watching the other clunk away, throwing one of those stupidly plain and cheap black backpacks on to one shoulder. Only Dixon would be too lazy to zip up the only large pocket of that bag—

… and _oh_.

A wave of nausea rolled through Glenn as he noticed, amongst a bunch of crumbled papers... the dull, matte finish of the handle of some hand gun. As the emotion caused sickness rolled through his belly, the chill of the cold crept down the back of his neck until his body gave one brief spasm. And he couldn't move from the floor even as Dixon disappeared. Even as the final bell rang.

It took a while before he could use a precarious hold of a locker's lock to haul himself on shaky legs.

Dirty Daryl Dixon had a gun. Glenn didn't know if it was just the handle or if the other had any bullets—but he knew that Dixon had been forced on to campus today. Everyone who had been there to see his escort had spread it liberally over the school day and especially during lunch. High school was mandatory for the most part—and Glenn didn't know Daryl's specific circumstances but he guessed that the other didn't want to bother with school. Maybe he even resented it? Hated it?

Glenn had to tell _someone_—an adult. Anyone, but really, an adult would be best. They could do something. Call the police or evacuate the campus or something. Anyone with a gun was dangerous. And Daryl had to be more dangerous then others because he was as much of a stereotype hick as was possible. If someone looked up 'red neck' in the dictionary, there would be Dirty Daryl Dixon with a gun or a bear trap or something. Glenn took a deep breath and did his best to make his mind slow down because he was doing it again. Where he would just stand still and let his mind run wild and not do anything!

Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his hair. He wanted to pull his hat out of his bag and wear it for comfort. But the campus security (an old guy named Fred and the other one was some disgruntled middle aged guy named Dick—and Glenn would be disgruntled too if that was his name) took and never gave back the hats that they collected on campus. They were not allowed and were considered a dress code violation. Like how girls had to have a certain length to their skirts and shorts and they weren't allowed to wear sleeveless shirts anymore. And how phones weren't allowed on campus. In fact, if was because of those stupid campus rules that his parents had refused to buy him a phone and—

And he was doing it again. Move! He glanced down to his legs and commanded them. And although they felt like jelly, and it took an extreme amount of effort to really just move.. He still moved. And his legs brought him slowly through the halls, his sneakers scuffing the floor as he shuffled along. As he neared the counseling office (he didn't know where he was going, really... or he just didn't know where else to go) he felt a certain reluctance file through himself.

What if Dixon was just holding it? Or maybe it was fake? What if it had been anyone else but Daryl Dixon? Would he be tattling on anyone else if he saw a gun? … well, no. He would probably confront them.

But if he confronted Daryl, the other might kill him.

… and Glenn wasn't brave enough to go against Daryl Dixon. Not for anyone.

He had stood outside of the door too long and it was opened before he could decide if he really wanted to go in or not. A girl with red eyes and her arm wrapped up in gauze was sniffling her way out through the door, soon followed by concerned parents. Glenn supposed that she had fallen during P.E. (she was wearing their lame gym clothes) and had fallen on that troublesome stump that was in the middle of the short cut most students took. Several students had gone home for it already.

Glenn stumbled out of their way and was seriously contemplating going off, but he locked eyes with the lady behind the counter and he couldn't... well... An adult would understand, right?

He shuffled in, unconsciously hunching his shoulders a little as he stepped up to the fake wooden counter and looked to the woman on the other side—glazed eyes, black, heavy set and overall unhappy looking—and he cleared his throat to try and get it to work. She focused on him (as much as she could, what was wrong with her?) and she lifted an eyebrow.

"U-um... well, I... You see... um..." Glenn stuttered, paused, stuttered again and drifted off. The woman didn't look amused or humored by his sad attempt at him conversation and instead she shifted to face him fully.

"You lookin' to talk to some'un? Let me 'ave your ID number and then you can sit down ta wait." Glenn nodded and rattled off his number and when she confirmed his identity, he stumbled off to the uncomfortable waiting seats. He clutched his bag to his chest and wondered if he felt bad that he was missing a big test right now. His parents definitely wouldn't understand, but his teacher would maybe feel some sympathy if he told the man that Daryl Dixon had scared the shit out of him. Or... or threatened him. Or beat him up. His back was sore, so the other's initial kick must have done something there.

Glenn took a moment to wonder how many rumors of Daryl Dixon were made to cover the short comings of others...

He sat in that chair for the next half hour. There were no windows in the waiting room (but there was a painting of a beach on the far side of the wall... mocking him...) and he could only fidget and stare blankly at his shoes. He could have used his time wisely to figure out more arguments for his parents to get him a phone... they wouldn't have to get him any kind of texting ability, he wouldn't use it! Okay... well, maybe he wanted that. But if it would just get him a phone, he knew someone that knew someone that... could do stuff.

His eyes drifted off to the side absently, one leg bouncing up and down as he waited... and waited...

And eventually he was called in—a simple "Glenn!" And he shot out of his seat like a rocket. It wasn't as if the voice sounded offended or anything. But he was used to people choosing to call his first name because of how American and easy it sounded. And Glenn shuffled over to the homey looking lady that stood at the front of a door that led in to an office that, thankfully, had windows this time.

It was a nice office, but the details were hard to focus on. As was the lady. She wasn't his academic counselor. But he flopped in to the chair in front of the desk without much of a thought as the lady moved and actually took a seat on the edge of her empty desk and looked down at Glenn. She waited for a moment.

And Glenn, finding no words, sunk down even more in to his seat.

"Would you care to tell me what's troubling you, Glenn?" She asked, and Glenn couldn't help but notice that she looked like an older version of one of the pretty girls in his class—well, she was the unfortunate older copy of what the girl would look like if she didn't watch what she ate and wore no sun screen. Not that the counselor was fat or anything—

"Glenn?"

Oh, he did it again. Glenn shifted and looked away. How do you bring up the fact that someone had a gun? Or might have a gun. Glenn wasn't too sure. And that he was really only saying it because Dixon had such a terrible reputation and Glenn didn't have the balls to go confront Daryl himself. "Well, I... um... you see..." He started and trailed off. He risked looking from the ground and to the woman's face and he unfortunately caught the lady's blue eyes.

They were warm and friendly and she seemed uniquely interested in trying to help him. Glenn felt his lips quiver as he tried to find a way to actually speak. Maybe... maybe he could do it the round-about way?

"Um... well, you see... you know Daryl Dixon, right?" He saw something flicker through the woman's eyes, but she didn't say a thing. And her silence seemed to say 'go on'. So Glenn continued on.

"W.. well, I found out that we're locker buddies. I have the bottom locker. I didn't know who the top one was for weeks! Of course, I don't really use my locker much unless it's lunch and I can shove my bag away so nothing happens to it because I might forget it or someone might take it and—sorry, sorry... that's not what I'm here to talk about. Um." Were his palms sweating?

He glanced down his hands to see that he was clutching his bag rather tightly to his chest.

"Easy there, Glenn. Easy..." The lady had lowered her voice—and Glenn let his eyes dart over to the name tag on the other side of the desk just so he could get her name and found 'Jessica Cran'. He looked back to Mrs. Cran and he took another forced deep breath so his words wouldn't come out in a stumbling rush. He couldn't quite make himself let go of his bag, though.

Glenn tried again, the lady looked nice enough. And maybe smart enough—"well, I was rushing to get to class and he... well, Daryl kicked me. And he had a scary look on his face and... and..." And maybe the other was in his class, right now, contemplating pulling out that gun and going postal on everyone and Glenn was just sitting here, blathering on like this? Glenn didn't much notice how white his face got, but Mrs. Jessica Cran took the obvious fear as something else and she gently coaxed the other back to looking at her once again.

"You can't judge someone like Daryl on first impressions, really... Don't take it to heart." She tried to calm him down. Although Glenn wasn't too sure what she was trying to calm. She didn't know what he saw. What he hadn't meant to see but saw anyway. She continued on, "he just isn't good with people... don't worry, you're not the first to complain so don't—" Well, Glenn felt bad for cutting her off.

"I'm not complaining! I... I... !" Glenn didn't get to finish.

The voice of the principle suddenly appeared over the speakers that were installed in every classroom, in every room of the building. His voice crackled dryly as he informed everyone to pause classes and go to the gymnasium. There was no explanation, but rather a request that students leave their bags in their classrooms.

The voice clicked off and there was only a suddenly awkward silence between him and Mrs. Jessica Cran.

She placed a heavy hand that was supposed to be comforting on his shoulder and she gave him a wan smile that didn't comfort him at all and told him to get along. This sounded important. And he could come back after school.

… he never got to tell her about how he thought Daryl was going to go postal in whatever class he had.

But maybe Daryl would just go postal in the gymnasium. No one ever left their bags in their classrooms when something like this happened. Be it for prep rallies (that was at least a month away, though) or emergency whatevers. Glenn dragged his feet as he sluggishly made his way to the indoor gymnasium. He kept his eyes to the floor and mulled over his situation now that he was no longer in such a high stress environment. Well, there was still the stress but he was no longer confronting it or anything else.

Glenn absently wiped his hands off on his pants to get rid of the last traces of his nervous palm sweat and slouched in to the gymnasium with the last class. The doors were closed behind himself. No one was in their respective lines and the teachers weren't forcing kids to go anywhere. He could see other teens ambling on the stands, around the gymnasium floor...

He didn't much feel like talking to other people, though, and he stuck himself to the far edges of the wall, and walked to the far end of the gymnasium so he was no longer anywhere near the doors that he had come in at. Whatever meeting that the teachers or the principle or whatever were doing, when they were done everyone would be funneled out that way. And Glenn hated being squished.

He could hear the principle, Mr. I-Have-A-Really-Hard-German-Name calling out for quiet—but the man had to know by now that he'd never silence anyone. Near the back, no one stopped chatting. Glenn rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the other doors of the gymnasium...

...and he felt his heart jump in to his throat as he saw Dirty Daryl Dixon slip out through the doors.

… his heart had just about jumped free when his body moved without a thought, and he stopped the door from closing and locking. Although, now that he caught the door he took a moment to contemplate what the hell he was doing. So what if the other was leaving? Didn't that just mean Daryl Dixon wasn't going to snap and kill them all? He was probably ditching school. And at this point, Glenn wouldn't mind doing so either. But at least Daryl Dixon wasn't in the school anymore, he felt just a little bit safer.

Okay. Honestly. He felt safer. Really.

Glenn realized he was lying to himself and let out a big sigh. He glanced up to the exit sigh above the door before he looked to his hand. The counselor (with the name he had already forgotten, but he remembered her blue-blue eyes) had said to not judge a book by their covers. As cliché as that was, of course. When kids brought guns to school, it was expected that you were supposed to tattle on them.

And it was known that... when kids brought guns to school, that they had... problems.

Glenn took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly as he took a moment to calm down—he could vaguely catch a few words from the principle. Words like; "military branches," "tanks," "Atlanta," and the like. Maybe some big military thing was happening or whatever.

Glenn slipped out the back door of the gym.

… it was time to go and confront Dirty Daryl Dixon... and maybe give him a reason to not shoot up the school.

* * *

The sun was a blinding white and blistering when he stepped out onto the walkway in front of the back entrance gymnasium doors. Glenn winced and shielded his eyes with his hands and wished for his hat (against school regulations, Glenn didn't wear them anymore on campus because he knew he'd never get it back. That one hick named Greg had been the first example of the school year) as he tried to blink away the spots. The cement under his feet seemed to glow like the white walls of a hospital room and the stark metal railing in front of him was just about all he could see as he stumbled forward.

He shut the door as softly as he could, slowing it down enough so that the door didn't actually shut, but just rested right before being locked. If Daryl Dixon didn't beat the shit out of him then he wanted a way inside that wasn't through the front main doors again because they might phone his parents for causing trouble.

He blinked for a few minutes as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He reached out and rested a hand on the hot metal of the black rail and squinted down the small dirt hill that the gymnasium was set next to. Pretty soon browns started to return to his vision—and then the yellow-green half dead crab grass and then the red of the roof a little ways away. Glenn let out a big whoop of a sigh and squinted one last time before opening his eyes all the way.

There was the artificial football field with the rubber track. No dark figures were there. Glenn did a sweeping look from left to right before he caught a shape that was just a little ways past the artificial grass. Glenn couldn't tell if it was Dixon or not, but he would bet it was. No one else should be out here but them.

The stinging heat of the railing under his fingers made him draw his hand back quickly once he noticed it again. He blew on his fingers as he turned right and jogged down the little handicap ramp that would lead to the stadium around the fake field. The whump of his bag hit his side heavily with every other step. By the time he reached the high school sized stadium, he was a little short on breath and panting. The summer had been brutal, and the Fall weather wasn't coming fast enough. No, really, it wasn't.

Glenn almost called it quits right then and there...

Only he noticed that Daryl hadn't disappeared. And in fact, the hick was pacing the fence line like a caged animal. Glenn snorted to himself and wondered how anyone could miss the hole in the fence once they went down to the last baseball field. Apparently no one else but him had wandered that far down school property to discover the hole besides the druggies. Glenn ended up hopping the fence that separated the stands from the field and he landed smoothly on the rubber track.

Once he was safely done and over, he turned around and froze. Yes, that was definitely Daryl Dixon, and he was staring right at Glenn. Glenn was too far to make out the details of Daryl's face clearly, but he could feel the other's eyes (and it burned!) on him. Glenn could almost relate his situation to a cat and mouse—except that didn't want to.

But the pin of the other's eyes was impossible to leave—and he was supposed to be going and talking to Daryl anyway. Glenn let out a big sigh before he dragged his feet forward as he walked toward where the other was standing. Halfway through the tedious walk, Glenn reached out and squished his bag to his side. And once he was close to be able to see the closed, pinched expression on Daryl's face, well, that was when Glenn decided to stop walking. The space between them seemed large enough that should it be needed, Glenn could turn tail and run and might be able to get away.

_Might_, being the key word.

"The hell you do'in 'ere." It wasn't a question, and Glenn flinched slightly at the sound of authority that the other was able to put into his words. Damn, those rumors were true too—and probably the ones where Dixon tried to buy alcohol by being as adult as possible.

But he couldn't stay silent forever. "Um, well.. I ..." Glenn trailed off and a small part of himself (the part that was buried under high expectations from his parents and stereotypes) refused to fully cower before the other's increasing glare.

"What." Dixon snarled.

"Youbroughtagunandpleasedon'tkillanyoneit'snotwort hit." Glenn took a sharp breath after his word vomit and froze. He didn't think he would have the guts to repeat that, and a cautious look to Dixon's face showed that it didn't need to be repeated. But then again, Dixon's face looked like it was currently carved out of stone.

Glenn dropped his eyes for only a second but when he raised them again he saw that Dixon had already just about finished crossing the distance between them. Glenn let out a yelp of shock even as he started to back-peddle from the other. His stumbling didn't get him far, and Dixon fisted his hand in the front of Glenn's shirt. Glenn's feet continued to uselessly push back for a few moments as he tried to lean as far away as possible.

"_Shut it!_" Dixon hissed and Glenn blinked and snapped his mouth shut from the babble that had been streaming from his mouth without his notice.

Dixon took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes briefly before he snapped them open and tightened his grip on the front of Glenn's shirt. (and his eyes weren't dark at all, not really...)

"You'd best keep that trap of yur's shut. What 'ave you told?" He shook Glenn once as he demanded answered.

"N-n-nothing! I've told them nothing. Honest! I swear!" Glenn's hands had automatically raised and clamped down on Dixon's arm for better balance so he didn't just fall over. Although he let out an involuntary whimper when the other's glare seemed to deepen. For someone so brawny, he sure knew how to kill someone with his eyes!

Dixon made a noise deep in his throat before turning his head to the side and letting a spit ball go—and then he shoved Glenn away. The action was so unexpected that Dixon was able to smoothly pull his arm away even as Glenn fell smack on to his back. And he didn't have time before Dixon's foot found purchase on his chest. Glenn raised his hands in surrender, trying not to breath fast as he stared up at the other.

"Now." Dixon intoned lowly, and Glenn was sure he couldn't even look away if he tried. "Yur gunna keep that trap of yur's shut. Not. A. Word. Do you unn'erstand me?" Dixon minutely pushed on Glenn's chest with his foot and Glenn was able to wheeze out that yes. Yes, he understood. A grim stretch of Dixon's lips crossed over his face, and Glenn couldn't even bring himself to call it a smile.

Dixon let out a huff, "'den we've reached an agreement. Get 'da fuck out of my sight, China man." Dixon pulled his foot away. And for a second Glenn thought that the other was going to kick him in the side like a classic bully would. But Dixon didn't. Merely turned and started to walk away. Glenn scrambled up on to his knees and then on his feet.

He needed to leave. Get back to the auditorium. Before anyone noticed he was missing—and his mouth ran off.

"I'm Korean!"

The stadium seemed to echo back—_Korean! Korean! Korean!_ Or maybe that was just his heart thudding in his ears as he watched Dixon freeze before the redneck turned and looked over his shoulder at Glenn. Dixon had settled his head low, looking much like a dog that was shouldering itself down to bulldoze through a herd of bigger dogs.

Glenn dropped open his mouth. Maybe he was going to apologize. Maybe he was going to continue jabbering. Maybe he was really going to lay down the law and demand that Dirty Daryl Dixon never harm a soul and never bring that gun back to school.

Whatever he was going to do, his heart rate shot through the roof even as Daryl turned on his heel to look at him.

Glenn started to speak.

And the student in the auditorium started to scream. It was low at first, but the horror in those screams carried and Glenn's thought process died as he swiftly turned around to look back to where he had come from. The noise was growing louder and louder. A crescendo that seemed to be building on itself. Everyone could probably hear it from a mile away. And Glenn could only watch as the doors he had just left not ten minutes ago slammed open and people poured out. The first out instantly started running in as many directions as possible. Some even jumped the railing to just get away.

The screaming only got louder now that everyone had spilled outside.

Glenn let out a shriek when a hand clamped down on his arm—a heavy, painful grip that had him stumbling even as Dixon pulled him a long. "W.. w-w-what. What are you doing! Why.. what...!" Glenn sputtered, but Dixon made no mind of it as he dragged the other to the fence he had been eying earlier. Dixon let go and tugged on the chain link fence even as he shot a glance over his shoulder to the people that were still pouring out.

Why was the other running? What if somebody needed help?

"Come on. Let's head back. Maybe... maybe there was a bomb threat or something and everyone is evacuating..." Glenn offered the other, although he was really just unwilling to go back alone when the screams just unnerved him.

Dixon didn't even look at him as he snarled, "look at the fuck'in parking lot." Dixon hoisted himself up a little, trying to find a purchase with the chain link fence. And Glenn turned to look.

Crowds... maybe a horde of people were running around the parking lot from what he could see at this angle. From the distance, he could see that many of them were red and shiny. They weren't running, really. Now that he looked. But they were shuffling awfully fast. Well, Glenn took that back. Some people were running.

Only to be caught and brought to the ground by the people who weren't.

Glenn felt cold as he watched. He... he didn't understand... what... what was going on?

He jumped at Dixon's snarl of frustration, and that prompted him to look to the people that had spilled out from the auditorium. They... they were pretty much the same as the people spilling in to the normal school walkway. And his stomach churned with fear. He... he didn't want to go and help anyone. The screaming was just... just horrible.

Glenn wanted his parents.

… he doubted that Dixon had a cell phone that he could borrow to call their work.

"Who tha' fuck doesn't put proper exits everywhere? This field is a fuck'in death trap! .._ fuck_!" Dixon hissed in agitation and shook the fence. And the other's raging seemed to ignite a fight or flight sense within Glenn as he turned to look at the other futilely pulling on the chain link. Glenn's breath shuddered and he felt light headed for a second. He glanced to the stands—there were people there already. And.. and people getting pulled down and people screaming.

He didn't know why he did it. Maybe for the same reason Dixon had pulled him to the fence. Glenn reached out and grabbed Dixon's elbow—except the other pulled away with a baring of teeth.

Glenn didn't care if his voice cracked, or he seemed frightened (because he was, even though part of him didn't understand why), "come on! There is a hole further down the fence line!" Dixon froze briefly at that before he opened his mouth—

Glenn shrieked again when a body threw itself at the fence Dixon was clinging to, and Dixon flew back with a shout even as the person on the other side pressed themselves—herself (Glenn's mind corrected) against the fence where Dixon had just been. Her mouth was open, dark and gumming at the chain link. Her skin was a waxy pale and her eyes were practically purple bruises.

The worst part was the blood. Her front was covered with it. It was flowing from her mouth in rivulets. And her neck and shoulders and arms... they were pretty much just strips of meat, barely hanging on... It took a second for the smell of copper to hit—Glenn choked back the need to heave as he stared. The girl's throaty wheezing scared him. The eyes.. .the eyes were so open and unseeing..

This wasn't real. Not real. Just a dream. Maybe he had stayed up too late secretly playing one of those end of the world apocalypse video games last night.

Yes, this was just a dream.

Until his face met the ground.

His cheek was stringing. His jaw ached. And he had the smell of hot rubber in his nose as he stared dumbly on the ground. His mind caught up a second later...

… Dixon had just punched him!

Glenn made a noise of protest as Dixon hauled him to his feet and gave him another mighty shake. He was yelling, he had probably been yelling for a bit, seeing as he looked so angry—"where tha' fuck is this hole inna' fence, huh!" He gave Glenn a mighty shake and Glenn could see beyond Dixon that there were more bloody (was that real?) people lining up at the fence between the stone seating and the football field. They were tugging and moaning and wheezing and making such a racket.

But none of them were on the field.

"W..w.. why don't we just stay down here? Stay and wait for the police—" Glenn had started but Dixon just gave him another shake.

"We ain't waiting fur those assholes! Fuck'in move!"

Glenn only had a moment to decide what to do before he turned and took off toward where the hole in the fence was with Daryl Dixon hot on his heels. Glenn didn't know what was wrong with everyone. Or what was happening. But he thought that maybe, in the distance...

… maybe those noises were gunshots.

But that didn't matter as he led the way down to the small dirt hill that led to the series of baseball fields that the school sported. Glenn kicked up dirt and rocks and he skidded along. Somehow he remained on his feet—it was probably the adrenaline. It felt like he wasn't getting enough air, but he could hear himself breathing so loudly. And his bag was thumping in to his side again and again. But he was running, and now that he was... he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Dixon from time to time. Glenn led the way behind the metal baseball cage to the next hill which brought them to the next baseball field. The second to last. Thank God almighty that these weren't football fields. Glenn saw that there was a small group of druggies hanging out in this most recent metal baseball cage. In fact, the five of them had moved in to the very back of the cage, where the only thing that separated Glenn and Dixon from them was the chain link fence of the half cage.

Even as they ran by, one girl shrieked at them, "hey! What's going on up there?"

Glenn hadn't the breath to answer, and Dixon just ignored her as they reached the last hill. They skidded down... and, well, Glenn tripped. He went down on his hands and knees and skidded. He was up on his feet in a crack, but his hands ached hotly. His jeans had saved his knees, but his hands..!

Glenn stumbled to a halt as he stared at his hands. They were bloody and red and shiny. Glenn instantly felt nauseous because he could see it, right in front of his eyes... the woman from up above. Her skin in strips and the blood... the...

The...

_Hand._

Glenn jerked, but didn't protest. There was a hand on his elbow and Dixon was pulling him toward the last batting cage. There wasn't a visible hole in the fence, so the other still needed him. And, well.. Glenn was starting to think that he felt a lot safer with Dixon with him right now. "R-right... Um, this way. T.. this way." He gasped his words out, because the panic was making him shaky. He could hear the screaming still, even as he led the way around the batting cage. He didn't know who designed this lower field. But whoever did was a bit of an idiot. The batting cage was built practically right next to the school's main chain link fence. Piled next to the cage was just a stone of left over sports crap that made the right kind of pile to climb.

"Climb where I do!" Glenn insisted as he tightened the strap of his bag so that the messenger came in close to his body. A moment later he was scrambling up the pile and then rolling on top of the chain link box that was the batting cage. Dixon was just a moment behind him.

Glenn crawled on his stomach to the side that was facing the school's main fence. It was too tall to jump right over. But whatever the name of those bushes that had grown next to and in to the fence had essentially forced the fence taunt. And someone had seen that as an opportunity to cut an obscure hole.. Glenn pulled himself to his feet and turned to look to Dixon. The other wasn't breathing nearly as hard as Glenn was. But as if on some kind of secret signal, Dixon looked back to Glenn the same moment that he looked to Dixon.

"Okay.. okay... You see it, right? It's a drop on the other side, but you can kind of slip down in the space between the bushes and the fence... and..." Glenn trailed off, because he could see someone running toward them. "And..." Dixon frowned and turned to follow Glenn's eyes to the running figure.

It was a girl. Long black hair and goth clothing—and she was sprinting right toward them... and there were people on her tail. She was putting some distance between them and her, but not by much.

She knew they were there, though.

She was screaming at them, after all, "hey! Don't fuckin' leave me! Help me! Help, _help_!" She was the one that had screeched at them earlier. Behind her was someone else that was sprinting. But she was having a harder time of moving. Whatever she was saying wasn't getting past her panting... but it didn't matter much because of the shuffling people after them caught her and brought her down screaming.

Glenn didn't focus on her, though. He focused on the other girl who had reached the wrong side of the chain link. She was pale faced and terrorized and she wrapped her fingers in to the chain link lamely, "oh help me up! Help me up!"

Glenn, well... Glenn moved forward to help. And immediately Dixon's hand was on his arm (wrapped all the way around, actually. Dixon had large hands, and Glenn already knew he had skinny arms) and stopping him. Well, only for a moment. Glenn shook his arm free and glared up at Dixon for a second before dropping to his stomach at the edge of the cage and he reached down with both hands.

He saw her face light up and she quickly locked hands with him and Glenn pulled back... and then came to the realization that... well..

_… human being are heavy._

Glenn choked and gave another haul and lifted her up for the most part. He could see the understanding and the terror approaching on her face. And Glenn squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and hauled—!

And she came up so easy that Glenn hauled himself all the way backwards with a heap of girl on top of himself. Glenn was quick to open his eyes and look down. He had done it! He was strong then he looked. Definitely—.. definitely not. Because just above her was Dixon as the other finishing hauling the girl's legs on to the chain link cage. Dixon glanced over to Glenn after a moment and then wrinkled his nose at Glenn before he stood and looked to the hole in the fence.

Glenn sighed and dropped his head back. He didn't it for only a moment (so what if it hadn't been him, really, but had been Dixon too?) The girl was still only for a moment before she was getting to her feet and Glenn scrambled up. Dixon was scowling as he waited for explanation. Because... well, Glenn looked down and noticed that the.. the... the creeps (that was a good name for them, Creeps) had appeared. There were three or so at the cage now. And no one wanted to risk falling.

"Okay. We have to jump. Its a pretty short distance... so.." Glenn glanced over his companions before he turned to the hole. He gave himself a short distance to gain momentum and leaped. One hand was out and ready to wrap in the chain link. The other grabbed some branches even as he expertly shoved a foot in to the waiting hole in the fence.

It bowed with his weight, and Glenn held his breath even as he stubbornly held on. His fingers ached and the grip he hand on the branched slid off painfully (oh yeah, his palms were bloody, that was probably why his grip on the girl's hands had sucked) and for one moment he thought he was going to tip... But his fingers wrapped in the fence held on and he gained equilibrium. Glenn shuffled himself and wiped his palms off on his shirt quickly before he turned back to look to the others.

She looked relieved. Dixon was blank faced.

"Come on, I can catch!" Glenn offered out an arm to whoever was going to jump. Dixon and the girl glanced to each other and Dixon stepped away. Her eyes went large and she seemed to shake for a moment in her goth boots before she took some careful, measured steps back and them leaped forward.

Glenn hooked a leg through the hole and used that to keep himself steady as he quickly threw his arm around her. Her hands had missed the fence, but she had gotten a foot in to the hole. Glenn was quick to direct her to the other side of the hole so she was out of the way. She hung on to the fence like a money, quivering.

So, he turned to Dixon.

"I'll get myself. Get out o'tha way." Dixon replied shortly. Glenn's eyes widened as he nodded and he slipped to the other side of the hole and found the halfway horizontal bar and got his purchase.

And then Dixon leaped, stepped in to the hole and through it... and crashed in to the brush and fell to the ground. Glenn gaped, but instantly moved to shimmy down the fence. He couldn't hold on to it long because the Creeps had gathered on the other side. So he let go and dropped the last bit. He landed awkwardly on the ground, but rolled with it. He came up for air and turned to Dixon (was he alright?) and found the other sitting up and brushing off leaves and twigs. He had a few red marks and some scratches on his visible skin.

Dixon caught him staring and raised an eyebrow.

A crash further down the way showed that she had jumped too. Although she had just landed on her rear. She groaned from the ground. Glenn glanced to Dixon before he shuffled over to her.

"You alright?" Glenn asked softly after a moment. The Creeps had followed him along the fence as he walked to her. She was laying on the flat of her back with her eyes shut. They fluttered open after a moment and she looked up at him—she had pretty brown eyes. Kind of like a kicked puppy, with his inherently sad look to her. Glenn didn't get long to observe and she didn't get a chance to speak as Dixon jostled Glenn with a hand on Glenn's shoulder.

"Enough staring, lets get up and fuckin go!" He hissed. And Glenn noticed then that the gun Dixon had in his bag was definitely real. And it was in Dixon's hand, safety unlocked.

It wasn't pointed at Glenn, though. So... Glenn crouched down and grabbed the girl's arm and hauled her up. She seemed to feel the urgency and scrambled up to her feet. Glenn took point again and led them the careful path out of the bushes. Glenn burst out in to the street and stumbled.

It was a nightmare. People were running left and right. There was a line of police vehicles to the left. The officers were all lined up behind it and popping off rounds of their handguns. Glenn didn't know how he had ignored the noise. But for some reason, until just a few moments ago it had felt that the world had been just the three of them. Glenn froze and Dixon rushed right in to him and threw him on his face.

Glenn groaned face first in to the ground, but didn't fight when a hand hauled him up by the back of his shirt. He cautiously touched his nose—no blood.

The hand was on his elbow again, hauling him down the road... and away from the police?

"Wait. Wait—_stop_! We should stick to the police... they have guns..." Glenn started, only for him to turn and see Dixon giving him the most unamused look in the history of expressions. Glenn didn't know why everyone called Dixon inhumane. He clearly could express emotions, after all.

The girl was quick to pipe up, already at Dixon's other side, "they're too busy covering their own asses. We gotta save our own skin. Yah?" She was still pale and clammy looking, but she wasn't panicking anymore. Glenn thought that he might be past his own shock. Or maybe he was just being reliant, because Dixon kept a firm hand on his elbow as he rushed the way down the road.

There weren't any Creeps on this side of the fence so far. Dixon kept his gun low. They were passing an intersection maybe a block from the school when Dixon banked right and turned that way down the street. Only they all stopped short when they saw that there was another police car line up... although this one was more vigorous... because there were more people on the other side of the cars getting shot at.

"Aha, not much of a road block..." Glenn started before he shut up. He didn't want to make any nervous jokes. Dixon's fingers clenched on his elbow before they let go. Glenn looked up to the other and found that Dixon was doing that one thing. Hunkering down, looking like he was going to shoulder through something no matter what. And since he was looking at the near overwhelmed road block...

Glenn started, "wait! Wait! Let's go somewhere else. It's too dangerous." He was quick to put in, and the girl looked relieved that someone else was going to be the voice of reason.

Dixon sneered, "I dun know about you assholes, but I'm go'in home."

Ah.

"My house is further along. We can hunker down there. My house has a gate and everything!" The words rushed out before they registered, and Glenn blinked up at Dixon (why had he offered?) even as Dixon froze to turn and give him an icy stare. The girl had perked up even more. But this.. well...

Dixon's face was stone, "I am go'in home."

"You are, yes. But you can't right now. Let's go to my place and sit tight for a few hours. And when the police clear them out, we'll go on to your house. How about it? It.. it's lunch time. Let's get some food, water... My dad has some stuff. Metal baseball bats and all sorts of things! So you can save ammo and..." Glenn trailed off. He knew he could just go home, hunker down and wait for his family. He didn't need Dixon or the girl (but she would probably prefer to come with him then try to make it through that mess) but.. well..

The thought of going off alone terrified him.

And Dixon seemed to think that getting supplies was smarter then just barreling through.

".. Yur dad ever go huntin'?" Dixon asked, but the surliness was gone. Dixon motioned with his head for Glenn to take the lead. And Glenn was instantly off at a jog. He would go at whatever speed just to get away from the noises.

"Uh, not that I know..." Glenn answered after a second as he turned back to the street they were on and led the way. Dixon huffed but didn't reply. Instead of saying anything to fill up the sudden silence, Glenn just ran a little faster. The girl huffed along, but Glenn couldn't bring himself to slow down as the houses passed by. There were less people milling about like ants during a rainstorm the further along they got. Eventually Glenn turned up a private drive way and to the gate of his house.

Glenn rushed to the security panel and flipped the lid of the cover up—and he quickly typed in the code that unlocked the metal barred door that was built in to the little security area. The driveway gate remained shut. Glenn slipped through and motioned for the girl and Dixon in before he shut the door. He heard it lock, but he tested it just to be sure.

He turned around when Dixon gave a low whistle.

"... I didn' think you were a rich lil' fucker..." Dixon was staring up at Glenn's home. And Glenn felt his face get a little hot as he stared up at the house. It wasn't that impressive. He had lived here since.. well, since forever. It was a two floored home, large parking structure next to it. It was plantation styles and earthy looking with extensive gardens.

Glenn coughed to clear his throat. "Well.. um... yeah." Glenn shuffled a second before he started to hurry to the front door. He stuck a hand in to his bag and unclipped his key ring. He unlocked the metal security door and pulled that aside so that he could unlock the wooden door. He led his companions in and made sure both doors were closed and locked behind him.

He hung up his keys absently, and noticed that his parents' keys weren't hung up. They weren't home.

"Where is the bathroom?" The girl asked, whirling to face him.

"Ah, down the hall to the right." He pointed to a hallway to their left. She whirled around with a muttered thanks before disappearing. Glenn was left blinking for a moment before he turned to Dixon. The other was staring after the girl with a squinty look on his face. Glenn glanced down to his shoes as he toed them off... and saw that he had blood smears on his shirt from where he had wiped his bloodied hands off. "Yuck..." Glenn mumbled and checked his hands. They looked raw and were still a bit bloody.

Glenn looked up to Dixon again, and found that the other was watching him. "Um.. well, I... I'm going to the kitchen." He glanced down to Dixon's shoes, but didn't tell the other to take them off as he turned and headed off to the closet were the first aid kit was... and then he went to the kitchen.

Dixon didn't comment about anything. But since he had already called Glenn a 'rich fucker', well... Glenn could only imagine the other's mental thoughts as he evaluated Glenn's home. Especially the kitchen. His mother had had it remodeled and it just finished a month ago.

Glenn would have been worried about the other stealing... if there weren't those... Creeps outside.

So, he just went to the sink after depositing the kit on the kitchen island. Glenn stuck his hands under the hot water after a moment and hissed and the sudden and sharp stinging. Glenn's hands shook as he forced his hands together to rub out any dirt or tiny rocks. He eventually grabbed some soap, and hated the tears that welled up. Breathing in through his nose slowly, he let out his breaths slowly as he worked through it.

He heard the fridge door opening and after a while, it shutting. And then a chair at the kitchen island being pulled out. Glenn let out a breath and turned the water off and dried off his hands on a paper towel. He then pressed his palms to the damp part of the paper towel as he turned to look a the island.

Dixon was stuffing a sandwich in to his mouth, with all of the other condiments scattered around his part of the island. Glenn couldn't find it within himself to worry about the mess, even though his mother was a neat freak. Instead he dropped in to his own chair and went about finding the Neosporin and some band-aids.

The girl showed up a little bit after he had finished cleaning up his hands. Her hair was damp and her face was pink from being scrubbed. She didn't say anything as she eyed the items Dixon had brought out before making a sandwich of her own. Dixon had made a second sandwich and had fetched a beer from the fridge.

… Glenn made his own sandwich and ate it before going to the fridge and heating up some left overs. He liked Korean food, his mother could make it very good... and, well, he needed some comfort food.

Here they were, making a mess and stuffing their faces for the most part. Glenn had settled down with a fork and spoon and was soon slurping noodles. Dixon was slouched back in a chair with his beer and the girl... and sitting with her head down on the table with her arms pillowed around her head. Glenn didn't really know what they were going to do next. But here... at home, surrounded by his kitchen, eating... And with Dixon and his handgun nearby, he felt pretty safe.

Safer then he could ever recall being, really.

* * *

Glenn eventually showed Dixon to the garage where his dad kept his tools and let the other go at it. The girl had opted to remain in the kitchen, sipping at some hot chocolate. Glenn, after leaving Dixon... went to his room.

He used his alone time to change his shirt and to pull on a thin sports jacket. He emptied his bag out on his bed. School supplies dropping everywhere. His hat was inside, though. His favorite red and white one. He shoved that on and adjusted it to his head. He lifted his messenger bag—he needed to pack.. something. He was going with Dixon to Dixon's house in a few hours, after all.

But then he realized it was only a messenger bag. And it was always hard as hell to run with a messenger bag. "Tch.." Glenn hissed to himself and dropped his bag on his bed. He went to his closet and shuffled through before he hauled out one of the older bags he had been 'gifted'. It had clips in the front to clip it to your body. Easy to run in.

Glenn checked his jeans, made sure the belt was working before he stuck his wallet in to the back of his pants. From there, he zipped open his bag and looked around his room. What would he need? … spare shirt, since he got one messed up already. He rolled up a white t-shirt and tossed it in. Some socks... maybe some underwear. A lighter that he was holding for a friend at school. And then the pocket knife his dad had given him, that went in to the front pocket of his pants.

Ah, and a hand held game. Just in case. He tossed the PSP in to his bag, plus the charger. He added a few pens to the other pockets in case he needed it. He gave one last look...

"Ah, don't forget that..." Since his parents hadn't gotten him a cell phone, well... he picked up the wallet size photo album of his own and stuck it in to his bag. He would probably need to show pictures to the police later to help him find his parents. He had several photos of his family in there, so it was all he had found one more thing to add, Glenn took another moment to look around his room once more. And eventually he caught sight of his phone. Well, it was hooked up to the land line, but it was the phone that he had in his room.

He needed to call his parents. Glenn didn't pause as he moved and snatched the plastic phone from it's cradle. He knew his parent's phone numbers by heart. He dialed and then held the phone to his ear. He stared vacantly at his posters and just listened to the dial tone. And waited... and waited... And then...

"We're sorry. The number you have..." What didn't it matter, Glenn didn't bother to listen after the 'we're sorry'.

That had been his dad's number. So now he called his mother's number.

... same response.

... Glenn hung up the phone and set it back down. His gut felt like ice.

When his parents got home, he was so going to use this against them to make sure they got some kind of family plan. He had been pulling the 'what if there is a super big emergency' card on his parents for at least four months. His father had always scoffed at it and went on some rant about how nothing was ever going to happen. Well, this showed him, didn't it?

With that done, he turned and went to the door.

Well, he was going to leave his room, but...

He drew himself to the window. It was right next to his bed so he shoved some school supplies off and then crawled to the other side. He remained low and cracked open a single blind and peered out. His house was on a hill, and he was on the second floor. He normally had a good view of the high school.

Glenn froze... It was like... like...

Like ants.

He spotted the original police car line they had been at before and gulped... he didn't see the creeps being stopped at the line anymore. Glenn squinted hard and tried to see more of the road, but... well... the trees around his house eventually got in the way. Glenn slowly let the blinds fall back in to place and he backed away on the bed and stood up.

He backed up right in to someone else.

Glenn gasped and threw himself forward and back on to the bed even as his hands scrambled—he brandished the only thing he could grasp—his biology textbook.

… it was just Dixon.

With his unamused eyebrow raising.

Glenn let out a slow, slow breath and dropped the book from shaky hands. He couldn't even find words to speak, instead he just focused on breathing. Dixon frowned, and Glenn just shook his head. He was scared, and the other just snuck up on him! Who would do that? .. .well, apparently Daryl Dixon did.

"... " Dixon glanced between Glenn and the window before shoving the other aside and moving to peer out of the window in a similar fashion to how Glenn had done it. Glenn hopped off his bed and collected his supply bag and headed for the door to his room. He paused at the door and glanced around. He had posters up—for video games and movies and.. stuff. He had clothes here and there and some action figures scattered around.

It was very much his room.

He had never invited anyone to his room. And he realized that Daryl Dixon, the total opposite of everything that Glenn was... was in his room.

Glenn mentally groaned to himself—hopefully the other didn't bring up how... childish, his room was.

Dixon eventually extracted himself from the window and carefully got up from the bed. The red neck didn't say anything for a long moment before he turned to look at Glenn. Glenn didn't think the words were necessary for communication right that second. But... well...

"... let's just keep an eye out.." Dixon eventually gruffed before he slipped out of Glenn's bedroom and moved to go back downstairs. Glenn didn't say anything as he slowly pulled the door to his room shut.

… he hoped his parents came home soon.

And it was the part of him that wasn't in shock that snidely thought, _'if they're still alive'_.

* * *

**A/N; **.. I have no reason, really. Other then I love Walking Dead. I finished this semester of school and I didn't fail anything. And I'm going to be studying abroad next semester, so I am excited. But yes, this here was made because I was inspired by some prompt about Daryl and Glenn being under-aged and all. I thought it was an alright idea, so I'm making my own. I don't know much where this is going, but I have time right now. This'll probably be a really short story, another two chapters at most I think. And maybe I'll finally get inspiration to actually read all the Naruto manga I have missed since I stopped reading it... a long time ago. Cheers... Hope this was enjoyable.


	2. Tuesday Part 1

**Stopwatch Chapter 2**

A/N; Warning for swearing. Also, not mine.

* * *

They ended up settling in to the family room. Dixon had drawn the blinds shut, but had devised a little peep hole of some sort with the curtains so that he could look out and check to see if anything was at the gate. Glenn couldn't find it within himself to comment as the other ripped in to his curtains.

The sun was setting outside, and it painted the grounds in strange russets and oranges where it used to be green and lively. Glenn could be doing anything, really. He could probably even be hunting down supplies for... for whatever... but, well... he couldn't help but sit numbly in his favorite chair and keep an eye on the clock. Glenn wanted to use the big wide screen television that his family had mounted on the wall, but Dixon had given him the fiercest look possible when he had suggested it.

… so Glenn had grabbed the miniature television from the kitchen and had brought it in to the family room. It rested on the ground, and the volume was so low that it almost couldn't be heard. They had set it to the local news channel and had sat back to watch the horror... or the girl did. Dixon was hunching over the stuff he had raided from Glenn's house.

Glenn didn't much care for whatever it was that Dixon was doing. He hugged his bag to his chest as he alternated between looking at the clock and looking to the tiny television screen.

Reporters had to be the stupidest people in the world. They would stand with their backs to the... the zomb—the Creeps. And normally the station cut away before they really got ripped in to. But that didn't change the fact that the reporters were dying because of their own stupidity. Even Glenn knew better then to stand still as the Creeps walked on in to his personal space. It was even more stupid that they even turned their backs to the Creeps when they were hustling forward.

All the same, all that was being broadcast was where to go for evacuation zones and what sections of the state were 'quarantined.' Of course, they brought a person or two on air to talk about what phenomenon was going on and a few of the religious crazies ranted about hell on earth.

But it got Glenn thinking... Glenn let his head slant to the side as he turned to look to where Dixon was sorting through a pile of tools. His handgun sticking out of the back of his ripped up jeans like an elephant in the room. Glenn cleared his throat. Glenn saw the girl turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. But Dixon kept right on ignoring him.

"H-hey. Hey. Dixon." Glenn started, clearing his throat once when his voice started to crack. He watched as the other froze before he turned his body halfway to look over to Glenn.

"..Why did you bring a gun to school?" Glenn questioned before the silence got too long and before Dixon got too annoyed.

Dixon's face seemed to war between 'that's none of your business' to just being annoyed and back again. Glenn poked his fingers against the leather of his seat as he stared up at the other. He watched as Dixon let out a huge huff of air and turned back to face his amassed whatevers (Glenn needed to remember what the other took so he could ask for it back and return it before his dad noticed).

"My brother done told me ta hold on to it." Dixon eventually bit out as he grabbed what appeared to be a coiled rope and stuck it in to a backpack. Glenn recognized that duffle- bag, it was his old gym one from middle school. Now that Glenn was really noticing, Dixon seemed to have amassed a lot of survival gear from his house. More than Glenn had thought was laying around. But all the same, Glenn registered Dixon's answer, but couldn't find a response within himself and he let the conversation die.

Glenn didn't look back to the television, though. He hugged his bag tighter to himself before he stood and left the room. He retreated in to the kitchen, the only thing that followed him was an inaudible murmur of that tiny television. Glenn almost automatically turned on the kitchen light before he stopped himself. They were essentially hiding out, after all. It would probably be best to keep on the down low. So he walked to the counters and placed his bag down.

Dixon didn't need to say it, but Glenn just knew the other was preparing to haul ass out of here and get to his own house. And Glenn... well, he didn't know if he was going to follow or not. But on the off chance that he did... he might want some food. Glenn moved to the fridge first and cracked open the door to look inside. The light from the fridge illuminated the room almost too bright. Glenn let his eyes roam inside and he spotted left overs from two nights ago. And a small personal pan pizza from his uncle's pizza place.

"Oh yeah... I was supposed to go there after school..." Glenn mumbled out to the air as he eyed the pizza box. He wasn't hungry at all, not really. But he glanced to a nearby clock and it told him it was almost dinner. Even then, he didn't think he could stomach the pizza. So he grabbed the left overs and a can of black olives that his mother had opened that morning. He made a quick meal of it, using the microwave to heat up the plate—although he popped open the door before it could start dinging that it was done.

With his not-hungry stomach full, he turned to the cupboards. He tossed a few fruit gummies in to one of the smaller pockets of his bag. He found a Gatorade in the back of the cupboard that he had obviously forgotten was there (or he would have brought it to school). Glenn picked up a can of fruit cocktail and placed it in his bag even as he munched on the few remaining black olives that were in his can.

Glenn ended up staring at his father's bag of beef jerky for almost five minutes before he decided to borrow it. It was better to just return it if he didn't need it with as many apologies as possible. Glenn took a moment to take stock of his bag for a moment. A can of fruit and beef jerky and some gummies. He followed it with a jar of peanut butter and a plastic container of mixed nuts. His mother was almost done with her loaf of wheat bread, so he stuck the tiny thing in to his bag with a small plastic bear of honey. If he had to camp out at someone's house for a day or so, he would be good to go.

It'd be _almost_ like a sleepover he had never had.

He had a t-shirt in the bag, underwear, socks... he took a trip to the laundry room and grabbed his jeans and basketball shorts that his mother had finished cleaning that morning and stuck it in there. He reached up and re-adjusted the white and red hat on his head. His bag was significantly fuller. He had his wallet, a pocket knife...

And he really was only obsessing so much on what he had because he didn't want to think of why his parents still weren't home yet. Or at least hadn't called.

"Hey."

Glenn jumped at the sudden voice before he froze. His heart had jolted just then! Glenn took in a shuddery breath before he turned to look at the kitchen doorway. The girl was standing there once more. Glenn didn't see how she had withstood wearing so much clothing and so much black for the day before. She was looking a little pale now, though. Paler than before.

"Um..." She pressed her lips together and shifted before she beckoned him back to the family room. Glenn nodded and he pulled his bag over one shoulder and followed her. He came back to the room to the surprising sight of Daryl Dixon in his chair, hunched forward and watching the small television screen intently. The girl was kneeling down on her spot on the floor so Glenn inched over to stand next to his chair and he looked down at the screen. Whichever stupid reporter that was reporting was on one of the freeways. Only it was jam packed car to car and people were running around like crazy.

Glenn stepped closer before leaning forward—straining to hear the tiny voice. It was an impossible task, the voice was too tiny for him to make out more then every other word or so. Sometimes not even that. But it was obvious that the people were all going somewhere. The screen panned out to 'Atlanta', Georgia.

… that wasn't so far.

"Its an evacuation zone." Dixon rumbled out loud when the station panned out to something else. Glenn shifted his eyes to look to the other to find that Dixon was staring up at him. Glenn couldn't find it within himself to be surprised that the other was looking to him, and merely shifted so they weren't leaning so close together. Maybe Dixon had built up a tolerance for Glenn, but Glenn wouldn't put that tolerance to the test. At least not right now.

Glenn breathed out as it finally came to him. Evacuation zone. There had been school buses on the road. His parents probably thought that he was on one of those buses and had already driven in to line on the freeway. In fact, he remembered there being an unusually large amount of school buses in the parking lot when he had stepped out to find Dixon. They had probably been preparing to evacuate everyone from the school, but they had just been to slow about it. But something that was aching within Glenn eased with the thought that his parents had made it. That they were safe and sound and...

… and oh. This wasn't good.

"H-how are we going to get there?" Glenn asked, his eyes going to the screen, silently begging for it to pan back to the huge line of cars on the freeway. Maybe, just maybe he could catch a glimpse of his parents as they went to Atlanta.

He heard Dixon snort. "We ain't. That's what."

Glenn froze before he turned to look to Dixon to find that the other was no longer in the chair. Glenn looked up and found that he was at the coffee table off to the side, and he had just finished packing two of his obviously survival bags. "What. What?" Glenn nearly ground that out (and it surprised him that his voice could get so low).

Dixon froze—and then he did that thing. Where his shoulders hunched up and his head went low and he turned and glared up at Glenn, who had found himself towering over Dixon for once.

"We_ ain't._" Dixon said again.

Glenn choked, before a slew of words poured out, "but we have to! That's the evacuation zone. It's safe. And everyone that isn't... isn't one of those Creeps will be there. It'll be safe... and my parents are probably already there!" Dixon's glare froze at that last statement, and his face went scarily neutral. Glenn took in a few, heaving breaths as he came back to himself from his word vomit.

The girl broke the sudden, tense silence as the voice of reason. "Well.. why don't we go to Dixon's house, get whatever he wants and go to the evacuation zone... we won't be able to go by car or noth'in. But I'm sure Dixon will know how." Glenn turned his head and stared at her. Her pretty face was still turned to the TV, her eyes almost obscenely large as she stared at the warping images. As if she was entranced and couldn't look away. Glenn gulped before he opened his mouth to ask—what was her name?

Dixon cut in—"no. We ain't. Those crowds wer' people panick'in. Somethin' is wrong over 'ter." His voice was low, almost dark as he spoke. He was standing now, and Glenn stepped away from him as the other experimentally pulled on his two packs and took some jogging steps. He was practicing tossing them on and off. And Glenn stumbled backward until he hit his chair once more and he fell down with a 'whoosh'. Suddenly... suddenly he felt so crushed.

The girl had looked up from the TV finally. "Whats to say they won't be done panick'in by the time we get there? The local police is one thing, but the military won't go down to these... things." She had a lot of faith in her statement, and Dixon had such a heavy frown it was as if he had carved it out of a mountain.

"We leave at dawn."

And that was the end of it. He unplugged the TV.

* * *

Glenn couldn't sleep. The girl had found one of the guest bedrooms and had made herself comfortable. Dixon... well, Dixon had made some strange nest out of blankets and pillows in the kitchen. The last Glenn had checked in on him, well, the other had, in no uncertain terms, told him to get the hell to bed.

Which led him back to his room. He had used the sink and did a quick wipe down to clean himself (and after he brushed his teeth, packed a brush and tooth paste... and some Advil from the bathroom. And here he was, just looking around his room. Not being able to sleep. He was leaving tomorrow morning and he found himself extremely unsettled by this. To the point where he just...

He just couldn't sleep. His parents hadn't been able to take anything with them, after all. What was it that they would miss? Glenn blinked away his haze and glanced to the closed door of his room. He paused before he slowly stood up. He had decided to sleep in his chosen clothes of tomorrow, and it took him a moment to adjust his jeans to make himself feel comfortable. He padded away from his bed.

He cracked open the door and peered cautiously outside of his room. He.. well, there was nothing there. But there were no lights on and there was no full moon outside. Everything was so dim and dark that he was very much...

Glenn had always been pretty scared of the dark, really. But after what he had seen today, it wasn't so much the dark as he was afraid of what could be hiding beyond his sight in the dark. He felt hot and cold as he stood on the boundary between the safety of his room and the hallway beyond.

And he stepped out.

His parents' room was two doors down. The guest bedroom was one over to the right on the opposite side of the hall. He crept along until he stood in front of the door to his parents' room. He stood there for a long, drawn out moment as he hesitated. He had been instructed to never go in to their room alone. He blinked and shook his head—this hesitation was only because it wasn't 'allowed'. But he was sure that it would be fine. This one time.

Glenn pushed open the door.

He hadn't been in this room in years, but everything was dark anyway. He stepped in. He went in to his parents' bathroom and nosed around. Nothing worth taking along. Just bathroom stuff, make-up and perfume. Glenn wandered to his parents' dresser and rummaged. He found a hefty wad of money. It was probably their Christmas fund. They'd probably need it, so he pocketed it. He searched the bedside table. The book case. There were a few nick knacks here and there that he was sure that his mother would have wanted... but they were too heavy to safely carry.

And he got to the last place in the room after exiting the walk-in closet. The last place in the room... his mother's vanity area. Glenn pulled out the chair and sat down. He didn't trust his eyes so much as his fingers. Nail clippers—pocketed. Tweezers—pocketed. Nail polish bottles? No way. Glenn let his hands drift until his fingers hit his mother's jewelry box and he blinked. Oh.

… his mother would probably love it if he brought her this. He grabbed the bottom of the box and lifted. It was not that heavy. And rather compact. He tapped the glass and checked inside. It was a really full box. He checked the sides of the vanity mirror and found a few necklaces hanging. He snatched them up and stuffed them inside. He went around the room a few more times to make sure he didn't miss any stray piece of jewelry. He already felt giddy with this accomplishment. His mother would love him for this when he met up with them in Atlanta. They had generations of 'family jewels' in this box, after all.

He closed the door behind himself when he exited the room.

He felt at peace with himself.

* * *

**Tuesday.**

They did, indeed, wake at dawn. And sadly for Glenn, he didn't wake up at Dixon's 'command' to wake up. Instead, Glenn was startled awake very suddenly when Dixon took hold of his ankles and yanked him off of his bed. Glenn gave a rather embarrassing startled yelp when he landed on some of his previously abandoned and (mostly) forgotten textbooks.

Glenn warily blinked his eyes in to focus and stared up at Dixon, who didn't look as well rested as Glenn would have thought he would look like. What, with the way he seemed to at home and calm all the time.

"I.. um... Good morning." Glenn greeted belatedly from the floor, trying to focus his eyes in his still dark room.

"Jus' get up already." Dixon silently padded out of the room.

Glenn grumbled to himself and slowly rolled on to his stomach. He reached back and rubbed his back. What did he land on? Glenn would have stayed there till the morning reached him, but he didn't think Dixon would stand for it. So, Glenn grumbled to himself as he got to his feet as quickly as he could determine which foot was which. He had slept in his clothes and socks, and it took only a second to find his shoes and lace up. A moment later he had his bag and was hopping to his door after checking the contents.

Everything—even his mother's jewelry. All safe and sound and wrapped in an extra t-shirt.

He paused at the door and just looked at his room. It was messy as hell, but his mother probably wouldn't be so bothered over it anymore now that the world was 'ending'. She would probably leave him and his mess alone once they got back home after this. Or, you know, clean it up for him because he was so awesome.

The window was shut. The blinds were closed. So Glenn shut the door to his bedroom. He'd probably be back in a few days when this had all blown over.

* * *

They gathered at the front door. The world seemed to be blue outside. Dark but slowly getting lighter and lighter as the earth turned more and more to have their side face the sun. Glenn was never awake this early. He had stayed up all night sometimes on the weekends to crash mid-morning or so. But during those times he was always so busy or so tired he never noticed... just how beautiful it all was.

Dixon didn't seem like he was going to stand around and 'enjoy' the beauty, though.

He had on a normal back pack—forest green and sturdy. It was from his father's garage, Glenn noticed this. It had been hanging up in the garage as long as he could remember. It seemed to be stuffed to the brim and securely locked to Dixon's back. And Dixon had 'acquired' one of his father's long sleeved dark t-shirts (Glenn didn't know if it was blue, green or black. It was just dark) but his jeans were still the dirty ones from the day before. And he had found a hat.

Probably a good thing. The heat was supposed to be, well, the hottest day of the year today. His mother had been reminding him for a good three days now. Glenn reached up and pulled his hat further down even as he accepted a metal baseball bat from Dixon. Dixon also had his old gym duffel thrown over his shoulder as well. That man had two bags ad Glenn didn't bother to ask what was in it it. He had his things, after all. And now a weapon.

The girl was looking rather ragged. And still pale. She didn't seem to be in as much shock as the day before, but there was a wild look to her. Strange and queer and it made her eyes look so big. The kind of look that actors did on the television when they wanted to look so scared that they opened their eyes so big that the whites of their eyes could be seen. It was even frightening to look at.

She didn't have a bag or anything and she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. That itself had Glenn frowning, wasn't she ready? Even Glenn had packed some things. All she had was the other metal bat that Dixon handed her.

Dixon had a crowbar. And was that a... tire iron strapped to his bag? Glenn frowned and glanced to the girl to see her doing the same.

Although... he really couldn't keep calling her, well... 'her'.

"Hey..." Glenn's voice cracked through the still air, and his companions both flinched and then hissed menacingly at him to 'shut tha fuck up'. Glenn was reasonably startled by it and flinched back from them. The girl mimed zipping her lips and then poked him hard in the chest. Glenn grimace when her nail dug in deep.

Dixon placed a hand on the door, "radio silence yah idiots. Dun' wanna hear a peep from ya'll unless sum'one's dyin' back thar." Glenn didn't know Dixon could talk so quietly. But he could. And he did. And Glenn had hardly registered that Dixon had spoke before the redneck had cracked open the door. The lawn was clear, the gate had held and it was empty.

Because it was 'clear', Dixon opened the door gently and slipped out of the house. Glenn motioned for the girl to go first before he slipped out of the house. Glenn turned to his door and gently pulled it shut. It clicked softly. Glenn was quick to bring his key out and he locked the door. The lock gave a weighty 'shnick' sound. Glenn paused before he pulled out his key and put it back in his pocket.

Dixon and the girl were already at the gate, hiding behind the brick wall part of it. Glenn hustled over. Nothing was in the private drive way, so Glenn unlocked it casually and they all slipped away. He made sure the gate was locked too.

Stepping outside of the safety of his house, Glenn didn't even have time to pause before Dixon was rushing them away. He didn't even get time to just look at his home. He didn't even feel bothered by it. He believed he would be back soon after all.

This wasn't going to be the last time he saw his home.

_It just couldn't be._

* * *

The streets were empty. Everything was so... quiet. When had the noise stopped? There were no bodies on the ground. Every so often there were suspiciously large blood stains and there was debris everywhere. Well, those weren't the most disturbing part. Glenn knew he was just rambling in his head at this point, but letting his little inner voice keep going was helping him continue to move.

The silence. It was horrible.

They were being quiet. They were. But there was nothing else to make any noise. There wasn't even a breeze. The air was stagnant with only a tiny hint of thickness. The heat of the day hadn't reached them yet, but it hung in the air like a threat to them. Like the Creeps did.

Maybe the silence was so scary because it all just felt so... silent. The world was noisy, after all.

But now it was no longer so.

Glenn wiped his sweating hands on to his jeans. He had to switch the baseball bat off between hands as he did so. He didn't even know why his hands were shaking like this. Or why he was breathing so quickly. They weren't even doing anything more than a fast walk.

But Dixon had motioned for him to take 'point' to lead the way back down to the street from the day before. And it was just him, with footsteps at his back

It was just the rambling commentary that stopped him from running and hiding somewhere.

But it was thanks to the sudden break in the silence that froze Glenn in place. They were at the four way stop with their target street. They had been here less than twenty-four hours ago. When the world had been screaming mad. At the noise—and Glenn couldn't even describe it other than it was 'not right'. He pressed himself against the brick wall of the post office (he was just there three days ago with his dad, actually) and he carefully peered around the corner.

They were just... there.

Shuffling.

Glenn froze in place, his heart thundering in his chest as he stared. His eyes started to sting but he refused to blink. Something in him was screaming out not to look away. And he couldn't. He couldn't look away. Their pale, vacant faces and sunken eyes and red—red they were all covered in _so much red—_!

Glenn's vision swam and he stared dumbly up at Dixon, his backpack digging in to the soft of his back from where he was getting pushed against the wall of the post office. Glenn blinked some more to clear his vision, even as he turned his eyes down and looked to the hand pressing hard against his jaw, covering his mouth. He tried to slow down his breath (when did he start breathing so fast?) and he eventually succeeded while Dixon leaned toward the edge of the building and peered around the edge.

Glenn glanced to the girl, she didn't look so good. Her hands were trembling.

Dixon was back, staring down at Glenn and Glenn looked back once he felt that weighty gaze. How the hell did Dixon stay so calm all the time? Glenn had thought he himself was over the... well, shock.

But then he had seen their unnatural forms again, and he... froze.

"I … its just..._ I_..." Glenn choked down his word vomit. "Its different. Knowing nothing is between me.. and... and the Creeps." Glenn whispered, his voice tiny and he felt shame flow through him at the thought. They had looked like ants from the football field. They had looked like ants from his bedroom window. So tiny, so small... so _unreal_.

And there they were, shuffling around the corner. It sent chills up his spine.

Dixon opened his mouth—and Glenn cringed from the insult he was expecting. The insult didn't come this time.

"There are five of 'em over there. A lil' too many fur us. I'm sure we can slip on by." Dixon stepped away from Glenn and then sunk down low to the ground, practically to his knees as he peered around the edge again. Glenn opened his mouth before he shut it.

Dixon was being... well... not brave. He didn't seem to be putting up a front. The teenager didn't even tremble in the slightest as he started to slink along. Glenn couldn't get his limbs to work right yet, and the girl slipped past like some dark panther in the morning light.

Glenn breathed for a few minutes before getting down low and moving as fast as he could without a noise.

* * *

Well, lesson number one of the apocalypse—Glenn's sarcastic little brain bleated bitterly. The Creeps move at their own pace. When they didn't see 'prey' they just ambled around.

Lesson number two—_apparently they had super hearing._

The girl had tripped, her shoe scuffing loudly on the ground as her hands flew out to catch herself on the police car that they were sneaking around to dodge the other Creeps. It had taken several minutes (it felt like hours but it was just minutes) to shuffle around the other cars and stay out of sight of the Creeps.

Her hands thudded loudly on the car.

Tripped the alarm.

Tripped. The. Alarm.

She dropped the metal bat too—clanged horrendously on the sidewalk.

The silence was completely gone and Glenn felt his chest go tight as he and the girl stared at each other with twin looks of utter heart stopping horror!

L_esson number three—Murphy's rule_ still_ applied._ Everything went to hell in a hand-basket.

Dixon seemed to take it as a signal to haul ass. He didn't even spare a word to scream at them as he took off like a rocket. Glenn jumped up properly and took after. Although after a few steps he turned—because she had been right next to him moments ago. Where did she go?

She hadn't stood up. She hadn't moved from where her hands were braced against the car. Tears were running fat and hot down her face and her mouth was open. Whatever she was doing, Glenn couldn't hear it over the ringing. But they were moving toward the car. Toward her. Glenn glanced once over his shoulder—Dixon hadn't stopped running.

Shit.

_Shit!_

Glenn ran back to the car, kicking up loose gravel and everything as he switched the bat to his dominate hand and he reached out and grabbed her arm with his free hand and yanked her to her feet. "C'mon!" Glenn yelled. There were five of them, right there. Almost within arms reach. Glenn shoved his weight backwards and land back first against something and knocked it down.

Dixon?

He turned.

Oh God. Oh God almighty where did they all come from? Five. Eight. Twelve. The world was going black around the edges as the Creeps seemed to just shake loose from everything. Pouring out of backyards and houses and cars.

His brain short circuited—the fallen Creep grabbed his ankle, so he lashed out with his other foot and smashed down on the creature's head. Once, twice. And again. Rapid. Quick. Let go. Let _GO. Letgoletgoletgo!_

Something gave, the grip was gone.

Run. Run. RUN._ RUN!_

Glenn ran, desperately hauling the girl with him as he stumbled down the street. They didn't have time. They were folding in like a parted sea no longer being parted. Like at a lake or a bay when a motorboat goes by. The water would arc away from the boat's path and fill in behind it once it had gone by. It felt like he was treading after Dixon—a tiny spark in the distance.

Glenn pumped his legs faster and harder then he ever had in his life. He swung his bat awkwardly. He aimed for head smashes as he ran by. But he couldn't just stand and pummel them to death. Not enough time or strength and by God their numbers! The hits were useless and time wasters. He shoved the other end of the bat in to one of the Creep's chests and shoved just from the sheer want to get it the hell away from himself. It made the Creep stumble back (high school jersey, hip jeans, fancy shoes, high school student!) and it gave Glenn a little more time. The car alarm was just a distant background noise now. A terrible faint theme song that was almost eclipsed by the noise. The yawning open mouths of the Creeps and the horrible thud of their shuffling steps. Almost like a marching band.

Marching Band of death, apparently.

Glenn couldn't see Dixon anymore. He couldn't even spare the energy to cry. The girl was slowly becoming more of a dead weight—what the fuck was wrong with her?!

The noise she was making, somewhere between a sob and a scream... They were going to die!

"Shut up! _Shut up!_ C'mon we have to run!" Glenn didn't care that his voice was cracking. Why was she doing this to him?! "Fuck!" Glenn tripped.

He. Had. Tripped.

So many legs. So many feet. Glen dropped his bat as he scrambled to his hands and feet—distantly he heard her do the same as her awful screaming shut up. Running down the street was stupid. He was supposed to be smart. He needed to be smart. He needed to live. Wanted it more than anything. He didn't need Dixon to save his ass.

His brain was going lightning quick as he darted forward. He didn't know when his hand had found hers but they were running and holding hands.

Cold fingers were brushing them. So many. So close.

_Run. RUN. RUN._

The streets were so full. Too full. Full of Creeps. Full of abandoned cars. Full of houses and... cars.

And houses.

Cars next to fences and trees. The plan formed too quick to even wrap his own brain around it as Glenn jerked to the side and shoved a shoulder in—and created a small domino effect where the Creeps half fell and he darted through. Pulling her along with him as he darted on forward.

One foot to a car's front bumper. The next foot on the hood. He was hauling her up with him. Straining. He was on the roof of the car now. She was too. The fence was right there. Stone. He hopped across and on to it. He held her hand and hauled. Pulling her physically with him. The fence wasn't that high. They were still within perfect reach of those hands. They needed to move.

Her foot slipped.

It was like yesterday. Her teary face. Her hands in his own. His bloody palms making his grip on her hard as she uselessly floundered.

_"FUCK! GOD DAMNIT! CLIMB!"_ Glenn shrieked, throwing his body back.

He slipped too.

But at least he fell inside of the fence.

And she came with him.

Glenn laid there, stunned on the ground inside the tiny, enclosed front yard. Whoever had lived here hadn't opened they tiny little security gate. Glenn shakily rolled on to his hands and knees and dry heaved—there was no breakfast to haul up, so he choked on the air and felt tears and snot dribble down his face.

She wasn't much better. But apparently she had had something in her stomach.

The wet sounds made his dry heaving worse.

Glenn never should have left his house. It was safe there. There had been water, food, walls. It had been quiet. It had been safe. He wanted his room. He wanted his bed. He wanted his parents.

His thoughts froze and then pinpointed on to one single thought. He wanted his parents. His parents were not home. They couldn't. They were in Atlanta with all of the fortunate people that got evacuated. He wasn't going to die here. Glenn refused to die. He still had to give his mother all of her jewelry. He had a mission. His father always said that a man had to follow through with all of his promises. And Glenn had promised to bring those back to her.

Well, he had promised it to himself. And that made it more important than normal.

Glenn was able to get to his feet. He turned and looked to the fence. The stone wall fence. It was holding up. There were fingers visible over the edge, but it wasn't making any breaking noises. Not like the iron gate... that was making noise.

He looked down at her—the girl. She was dry heaving now. But her sick was in a puddle in front of her.

Glenn wiped his own face with one of his sleeves. He wiped off his tears and his sweat and tried to tell his body to just shake itself out now so he didn't have to deal with all of this trembling shit! "Get up!" Glenn insisted to the girl as he looked around the small front yard. The front door was closed. There was another metal fence that separated the front and backyard. Thank God that whoever had lived here was a pretentious ass and had gotten one of those gaudy decorative ones. The ones with all of the fancy ass scrolls. Those were easy to climb.

"Over there. We'll hop the fence in the back. Should be safer than the street." Glenn grinned to himself as he went toward the gate. They had better hurry and lose their following.

She didn't get up.

This was pissing Glenn off.

"Get on your feet, damnit! I'm not going to haul around your dead weight!" Glenn clenched his hands in to fists, and she just sobbed at him! "I'll leave you here!" She hiccuped.

_"I'm not going to die for you!"_ Glenn finally screamed at her.

She went silent.

And finally she looked up at him. Bug-eyed and deathly pale with sick trailing from her mouth. "M.. M-m-mu!" Her whole body jerked and grief watched over.

"I saw m-my m-m-mommy by the police car!" Her voice went up to a deadly high octave as she closed her eyes and just screamed. And screamed. And screamed. "She's DEAD. Oh no." She choked between wails. _"Mommy!" _Glenn was struck still for a second. In the heat of it all he had forgotten, really... The were just high school students. Barely, in his own case. She didn't look any different from him in the age department. Glenn was struck dumb for a moment. But not for long. The noise... the noise!

The noise seemed to infuriate the Creeps. The gate they were pressing against was making some rather ominous... noise. Glenn glanced between the gate and her. The gate. Then to her.

He wanted to leave her here.

… he couldn't leave her.

Glenn darted forward and got behind her. He wrapped his arms under her armpits and physically hauled her up. Although halfway up his body crapped out on him and he faltered—but he had hauled her up enough that she automatically followed through with the motion and stood on coltish legs. Her wails and sobs and tears blinded her, and she just flailed around.

So, he took her by the arm and hauled her to the gate.

Was he going to have to throw her over? Glenn growled and reached out to shake the gate...

—The gate was unlocked.

Glenn stared at it dumbly for a second before he pushed it open and shoved her through. He followed shortly afterward and he looked back to the gate. Whoever was here last... left the lock undone. Glenn didn't say anything as he closed the lock. He tested the gate again. Locked.

There was the sound of something strong breaking from the front yard, so he took hold of her again and hustled down the narrow area to the back of the house. There was no gate on this side, and Glenn paused before sticking his head out to look around the backyard. He ignored the sobbing girl—she apparently didn't have the energy to wail anymore. She just sobbed.

The backyard was empty. Just grass.

But the back doors of the house were open...

Should he risk looking inside to see if he could find something to replace the bats that they had dropped? Glenn glanced back the way that they had come and then to her and then to the open sliding glass doors... and then back to her.

He wouldn't have back up.

And she was so noisy. If there was a Creep inside, they would have started to move toward them. So Glenn hustled to the back fence. He had to jump a little before he reached the top. He pressed his shoes against the wood and somehow managed to get an arm over the top. He dangled there a moment before peering over the side.

The next yard had a kiddy pool. Back door was shut. Gates were shut. No suspicious blood stains...

Glenn dropped down and turned to her.

The sobbing seemed to be done. But the tears were still leaking free—and they didn't have time to deal with it. "C'mon. Lets get you over the fence. Okay?" Glenn tried to smile at her, but it didn't seem to work so well. She just hiccuped at him. Glenn moved and crouched down, lacing his fingers together. He offered his hands as a step stool to her.

After a moment, she complied. She placed her shoe in his hands and stepped up, hands reaching for the top and Glenn straightened his legs. It placed her just high enough to flop on to the top of the fence and park herself up top.

She offered a hand up, and Glenn gladly took it.

It was a bit of a struggle to haul him up, but they worked together and got Glen on top of the wooden fence. The other yard was still clear, and they jumped down together on to the other side. They paused there and listened for a moment.

Well... safe for now.

Glenn reached up and pressed a hand against his heart. He took in a few deep breaths and let them out slow before he looked over to her.

"You, uh... might want to wipe your face." Glenn said after a moment. She glanced up from her shaking hands to him before she used her sleeves to wipe at her face. The tears and the sick were soon cleaned off, but they would have to find her a new shirt eventually. The smell that lingered wasn't exactly pleasant.

Glenn looked to the back door of the house before he looked back at her. "We, uh... we've long since lost Dixon. And the bats... and yeah..." Glenn trailed off, not anywhere near mentioning what, exactly, his idea was to her. But she focused in on the house and nodded her head.

"Yah." She mumbled tiredly, "lets check it."

And then they both waited for the other to move toward it first.

… and that didn't exactly pan out.

Glenn eventually took it upon himself and motioned for her to stay back and he creeped up to the back door. Once he hit the porch, he ran to the area where the door met the wall. The actual back door was open, but the glass door was there. So he crouched low and peered inside the house.

It was a living room. Clocks, figurines, picture frames... candy in the candy bowl. This looked like an older couple's home. And the best part? He could see the front door. It was shut. Glenn grinned to himself for a second before he tested the back door. It was open. He turned to his partner and motioned her over. She scrambled over to him and took up position hovering at his shoulder.

So, they padded inside the house, gently closing the back door behind them and locking it. Then they shut the glass door. The blinds were all pulled down and the morning light was dim. There were no sounds in the house...

But Glenn saw the fireplace—and he took hold of the iron poker. He handed the other teen the metal stand that it had been resting on. And together, they peered down a hall that looked right. Nothing in the hall. He looked left. Open kitchen.

The kitchen area had a door—and Glenn had seen a layout like this before. That led to the garage.

Since it was clear, Glenn walked over to the front door and peered out through the little peep hole. The street was crowded. Glenn pressed his lips together and backed away from the door. He returned to the living room area, with the girl still hovering at his shoulder.

"Well.." His voice cracked. He cleared his throat.

"Lets stay and rest for a bit... Eat something." He motioned toward the kitchen that they were near. "We just can't make a sound, okay? No lights, either." They didn't want to be seen. And maybe if they were quiet enough for long enough... things would just calm down outside long enough for them to haul themselves away.

They never should have come this way. They needed to find a freeway. And a car... Glenn had only driven a motorized scooter before, but a car couldn't be that hard, right? And there were probably tons of cars with keys in the ignition just waiting to be taken.

But now wasn't the time to day dream.

Glenn wrapped his hands around the iron-poke-fire handle and glanced to the hall once more. "Yeah. Sounds like a good plan, right?" Glenn asked her, and looked over to her just in time to see her nod.

"We just gotta check this place out. Make sure we're the only ones here, Yah?" Glenn asked again, and she nodded and took position at his shoulder.

They made their way slowly in to the hall. The first door they check opened up in to a closet area with a washer and dryer. The second door on the left—guest bedroom. No closet. Window shut, blinds drawn. After a moment, they padded inside and checked the bed. Clear.

Next door—another guest bedroom, clear.

Door at the end of the hall—bathroom. Blinds open. Glenn fixed that, and swiftly sealed them up.

Of course, the hall was L shaped, and at the end of the curve was another door. Closed. Glenn frowned at the heavy feeling in the air and pressed his ear against the door and went still to listen. She didn't say anything, but she did huddle closer.

There was a noise coming from in there.

Glenn took a step back and motioned for her to step back. He carefully pulled off his pack and set it around the corner before turning back to the door. The crack under the door was large, and light was pouring in to the hall from it. It made the door look rather ghostly, really.

Glenn got down on his knees and laid down on the ground. He carefully kept the iron poker up from the floor and he angled his head to look under the crack. The light blinded him. He had gotten used to the dark halls. He squinted against it and waited for his eyes to adjust. There were long curtains against the wall across from the door. They were moving slightly... perhaps the window was open?

A foot jumped in to his vision, and Glenn jumped a bit in response. His breath catching in his throat as the foot paused before shuffling on a little bit. The person was slowly staggering about.

Glenn pressed his lips together as he moved and sat up. He blinked against the dark of the hall and he watched the door for several long minutes.

… the likelihood that it was a Creep was pretty high.

Glenn didn't think he couldn't face it. He didn't even know how to kill! So he carefully got to his feet and left the hall. He picked his pack up on the way and went to the kitchen. He placed his bag on the counter and then the poker on the table (as soundlessly as he could). She placed the stand on the ground with a gentle 'clunk'.

Glenn started to whisper out loud as he made sure the little kitchen window was secure, "I.. I think it's one of, yunno, 'Them' inside that room. But if we stay super quiet and all, we'll be fine." She didn't reply as she slowly sunk down to the floor to just sit.

Glenn checked the refrigerator for food.

The light and cooling inside worked. He pulled out the milk and orange juice he saw and set them on the ground. There was plenty of fruit inside. The fridge was full of healthy things, really. Glenn had a sinking feeling that they might not get much of this stuff in the future. He didn't know where the feelings came from, so he pulled it all out and placed it all out on the floor like a buffet.

He wandered through the cupboards and pulled out anything that was useful. Anything to eat. Anything he could think to add to his bag. He found a half package of water-bottles and brought that out. She was already tearing through the food as it was.

So, Glenn sat next to her and ate too.

When they finished... they just sat there. The house was warming up slowly, and Glenn knew a few hours had passed since they had set out that very morning. They should probably weather out the heat of the day here.

* * *

They didn't get up. And when they got hungry again, they merely pulled more food in and ate. And when full, they just stopped. And they waited in silence. Listening. Their ears straining.

In the distance, the occasional car alarm would go off.

The occasional gun shot.

But the worst of it was the screaming. And the worst part of the screaming was whenever it cut off and the not-silence sunk back in to the world. It left Glenn's hair on end and the little animal part of his brain screaming to run away very fast. But there wasn't much for it at this point.

Glenn wished that Daryl Dixon was with them.

… and at the same time he hated and envied that jerk for leaving them.

But Dixon had been the smart one. The one that just ran like his life depended on it. And it did depend on it, considering the circumstances. Glenn couldn't argue with that. But at the same time, he hated that Dixon had ran without looking back even once. Left them to die, really.

Well... maybe just left her to die. Glenn could have ran, but he didn't.

That made him the better man.

Glenn glanced over to her—he really needed to get her name. But when he looked over, she was just sprawled over the cool tile with her limbs all curled in and eyes shut. She was sleeping. So Glenn looked down to his lap and frowned at himself. He curled his hands in to loose fists and pondered over what to do.

… and maybe he hated himself a little for wishing that Dixon would come looking for them. He wouldn't, though. Dixon probably thought they were dead. No one would look for them. No one at all.

So far, Tuesday wasn't looking any better than Monday. His math teachers loved giving pop quizzes on Tuesdays. And well, he didn't do so great on today's 'pop quiz'. In fact, he would give himself a C-.

Lost the metal bats. Almost got killed. Turned on an alarm. Tripped a few times. Trapped in a house with a Creep. Glenn reached out and took the orange juice and took a swig right from the bottle. He tossed the rest of it back and closed the bottle up. He raised the bottle up to throw before he paused and gently put it on the ground next to himself. No noise, he reminded himself.

Not a peep.

Glenn laid down and closed his eyes. He pressed his face to the cool tile and just tried to calm down enough to nap. They probably weren't going anywhere till the afternoon. After the hottest moment of the day. So he laid there and told his body to relax.

It refused.

And when he closed his eyes, all he could see... all he could imagine were hands. Dozens and dozens of hands reaching out. Surrounded at all sides and suffocating. Glenn wrapped his arms around himself and curled up even more.

He squeezed his eyes shut and his heart merely jumped in stubborn fear. He needed to rest. He couldn't afford to be stressed because she was pretty much useless to his survival. It didn't seem like he could rely on her. So, now that they had this respite... he needed to rest! Creep or no Creep in the house!

He gave up after a short time and lifted his eyes to the iron poker.

… he wasn't going to be able to sleep with that thing in the house. Not like her.

He had to kill it.

Somehow.

So he got to his feet and picked up the poker and turned to the hall. It was so dark down there... Was it bad that he was scared? His heartbeat was like footsteps in his ears as he slowly started his way down the hall. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. One-two. One-two...

He found himself in front of the door.

No time to think.

He opened it—

* * *

**_A/N:_ **That's the End of chapter 2. I hope it was exciting enough. I kind of figure that since it's only 'day 2' of the end of the world, there are a lot more Walkers up and about since they haven't had that long to spread out in to packs and all. Thus, the red sea of zombies. This chapter is hot off the press, not even proof read, even. But I figure that since I promised this to you guys a while ago I should just upload it now. I'm going to really focus on finishing this so I can lay it to rest before the middle of September. If I don't have it done by then, it'll be a year (August 2014) before I'll be able to pick it up again. Any suggestions or ideas are welcome and I hope everyone enjoyed.

And on that note, thanks for all the Favs, Reviews and watches! 3


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